And Now For Something Completely Different
by sugaredkiwi
Summary: Short ficlets written for comment fic on livejournal.
1. Sin With A Grin

**Author's Note:** This is just a series of very short ficlets I did for comment_fic on livejournal, where everything you write is supposed to fit in one comment. They're in no way connected to one another, and I can't guarantee I'll be adding on to this, considering I have a chapter of Highway to Hell about half finished and a million other things to do besides. But. Well. Figured I better archive this here, too. These were done recently, fyi.

**Prompt: **Shinedown; Sin With A Grin

* * *

"What the hell is wrong with you." It was spat where Dante hunched, one hand clapped over a slash across his shoulder; his left, thankfully, leaving his lead arm unscathed. Vergil was getting sloppy, and that was always a good sign. Blood ran down his fingers and pattered softly against the pavement, as the wound stitched itself together unnaturally fast, and he gave it a quick glance to check on its progress, before straightening.

The hand was dropped from the wound and wrapped around Rebellion's hilt, where it had stuck into the ground. "Seriously. What the hell is wrong with you? What has gone fundamentally _wrong_ in your brain that makes you think this is _remotely_ a good idea?"

Vergil was several feet away, the tip of Yamato coated red where it lay between them like a barrier, and it twitched in his hand, Dante's blood splattering from it to the brick wall behind him. "Now, now, Dante. There's no need for name calling." Despite the venomous sarcasm in the words, Vergil's expression didn't budge from the cold blankness it cloaked itself in. "I have no reason to explain myself to you, and you wouldn't understand, regardless."

That earned a growl that bared Dante's fangs. "Try me, asshole."

"Absolutely not." A corner of Vergil's mouth quirked upward, but it wasn't a smile. And it didn't reach his eyes. Very little in the way of emotion ever did. "I have no desire to break it down into baby words for you." With that, blue points of light flared into existance around him, before they formed themselves into ghostly, glowing swords. Dante gave Vergil a look, one that spoke volumes about the hurt and betrayal he felt, before Rebellion was pulled from the ground.

"Fine. Let's get this over with." He did give a grin then, and while it wasn't humored in any sense, it did reach his eyes, which were quickly more black and red than white and blue. "And when we're done and you're picking yourself up off the floor, we'll see who needs what in baby words."


	2. Baby, Come On

**Prompt: **Dante and Lady: He's not so good at bandaging wounds.

* * *

"Ow!"

"Sorry, sorry." It was sheepishly said, as Dante loosened the gauze he'd been wrapping around and under Lady's arm, where a Sin Scythe had managed to nick her, laying the skin open. It was going to leave another scar; one of several, and it was in a place she couldn't exactly reach on her own. Thus Dante being handed gauze in the first place. "You know I suck at this."

"Suck's not the world I'd use." It was seethed as Lady glanced over her shoulder, mismatched eyes narrowed. "But I don't see anyone else volunteering." It was said with a sigh as she used her good arm to gesture to Dante's otherwise empty office. "But you can't really be this clueless on how to do this, Dante. You don't heal from _everything_ like a goddamn bionic man."

"Well, no." He rolled his eyes and went back to the task at hand and, satisfied the gauze was a tight and thick as it could be to hold the bandage in place, snipped it with a pair of old scissors he'd found in a drawer of his desk. The tape was grabbed, and he started wrapping it in much the same fashion, a little tighter than the gauze. "But I usually just let 'em stay open." He peeked around at her, grinning. "No infections."

"Tch." She looked away, and her shoulders tensed in the want to fold her arms.

"Pass me that bottle." That earned him a dirty look, before Lady handed it to him over her shoulder.

"You're not going to pour it on me again, are you? Why can't you keep peroxide like a normal human being?" There was a huffed snicker from Dante's end on that, and she made a noise of irritation as she heard the bottle being uncapped. "And you'd better not be _drinking_ it. I have cuts to go."

"You can get to those yourself." At her scoff, he shrugged, though she couldn't see him. "What? You do a better job at this than I do. Besides, you already said I can't do the ones in places where I would _see things_." The last two words had a prissy tone, and his grin could be heard through it. "Ergo, you can patch those up, I'll order the pizza."

"It wouldn't kill you to eat something else once in a while." Her tone was waspish, and she snorted at the poke in the back Dante gave her, indicating he was done. "But fine! Be a lazy bum all you want." She picked up the shirt she'd had to remove to get to the wound and slipped it on before turning to face him. "I was going to let you, even if you would _see things_. I didn't figure you were a prude on top of being lazy."

And with that, she breezed from the room, heading through the door that would take her to the bathroom. Dante gaped behind her a moment before following. "H-hey! That's not even fucking fair!"


	3. Smoke On The Water

**Prompt: **"So I downplayed the danger a little. It's not like you lost a limb."

* * *

"So I downplayed the danger a little. It's not like you lost a limb."

Vergil, from where he was leaning against a wall and nursing a deep gash across his midsection, glanced up, his entire expression incredulous. Had Dante just really? _Really_? He had, judging my the smugness of his own expression, despite the fact that blood dripped down his own nose from a cut along his hairline. And Vergil just stayed there a moment, staring, simply refusing to believe Dante was honestly that stupid. "Are you serious." His voice was flat. So very flat. "I'm practically holding in my intestines, and _that's_ all you have to say for yourself?"

"C'mon, it's not _that_ bad." Dante picked his way over the mangled bodies of the demons that had jumped them a few minutes before, one knee wobbling from the nice, deep cut on the back of his thigh. "Lemme see."

"No." Vergil huffed, gripping the gash tighter and forcing himself straight, his teeth clenching against the noise of pain that threatened. "You stay the hell away from me, you disgusting sheepdog."

"Pfft." Dante waved aside the hand Vergil sent in his direction, pinning it against the wall, before prying at the other. "Be a good dumbass and lemme look."

Vergil snarled at that, as he leaned forward and snapped at Dante's face with his teeth. They skimmed Dante's cheek, but found no purchase there, and his arm was pulled free of the deep cut he'd so desperately tried to cover and hold together, to let genetics do its work.

Dante gave a low whistle, shaking his head, utterly shrugging off the attempted face chewing. "Yeah, but it's not that bad. You'll be _fine_, you big goddamn baby." With a snort, Dante released him, taking a quick step back. The arm that had been covering Vergil's wound quickly clamped down against it once more, and Vergil squinted at Dante, jabbing a finger at him with the other hand.

"We'll see who's fine when I'm ripping your spine from your throat."

"Uh huh. Whatever you say, you electroshock therapy reject." The arm was grabbed and tossed over his shoulder, and Dante clamped down on Vergil's hand with his own, to keep him from getting any ideas of attempted maimage. "Let's get the hell out of here."


	4. Burn It To The Ground

**Prompt:** Vergil never went to Hell.

* * *

The phone rang shrilly in the otherwise silent office, and the figure behind the desk raised one white eyebrow, before heaving a sigh and setting aside the book he'd been skimming through. It had been a slow night - slower than most - and he was halfway tempted to go out a make a little trouble, just to have something to do.

A gloved hand reached for the receiver, and once it was settled in the crook of his neck, he picked up his book once more. "Devil May Cry." His voice was flat, bored, uninterested. If this was another job claiming rabisu that in reality ended up being bats taking up residence in a broken freezer, he was going to be irritated. Very irritated.

The voice on the other end relayed the password, a silly little phrase his brother had come up with years ago and had stuck, and Vergil had yet to find a way to explain to Dante how melodramatic and stupid it was. "I'm listening."

The voice on the other end was male, young, and sounded scared out of his wits. A good sign. "There's these huge black shadow things in the basement of the morgue. They're dragging off the bodies."

"Uh huh." A page was turned. "And what are they doing with these bodies."

"Man, I don't _know_. The boss said call you guys if shit like this happened. I ain't going down there." There was a clatter in the background, and Vergil reached up, switching the phone to his other ear. "What the fuck was that?!"

"Right." Yet another page was turned, and the illustration was enough to have Vergil straighten in the chair. Black shadowy beings that fed on the flesh of the dead. And the living. Interesting. "I suppose we'll make our way down there eventually. Be a good boy and keep praying mindlessly until we show up." And with that, the receiver was placed in the cradle, as the front doors swung open and Dante stepped inside, holding up takeout cartons.

"I got dinner."

Vergil's nose wrinkled at that. "Then put in the fridge. We have a job." He didn't respond to Dante's questioning look, as he rose from the chair and grabbed his jacket from the coat rack and Yamato from where it hung on the wall. "Now, Dante. Not sometime next week when it finally hits you."

Dante snorted rudely before disappearing through a doorway, as Vergil marked his page and tucked the book away in his jacket. Dante not arguing was smart. Vergil would hate to have to maim him.


	5. She's A Lady

**Prompt From An RP:** Vergil and Lady argue over their kid's curfew.

* * *

"Nine pm, sharp." Vergil didn't glance up from the book he'd been reading, before the slight-figured silver-haired girl even opened her mouth to ask the question he knew was coming. "There is to be no discussion, no crying for mommy, and if you're late...Well."

A foot was stomped, mismatched eyes narrowing at the unfairness of it all, before she spun on a heel out of the room, already screeching at the tops of her lungs for her mother. Hadn't Vergil just told her not to go crying to mommy? Hadn't he? And did anyone, for that matter, in this house remotely listen to him?

No, no they didn't, and it was proven as 'mommy' herself appeared in the doorway, arms folded and that scowl in full force. The book was brought higher, to block out the image.

"Vergil." And a page was turned, as he continued to pretend not to hear. "It's Saturday, and the movie's not over until ten."

"Well, guess who'll be leaving early."

The book was snatched free, and he found himself blinking up at the very unamused face of Lady, where she tossed it over her shoulder. "I told her ten-thirty. If you want to make an issue out of it, you can come to me."

And there was that glint in her eye that promised whoever so had a problem with it would be tasting lead and picking it out of their cranium. Namely Vergil himself.

There was a long silence, as Vergil felt around on the small side table next to his chair, for some semblance of saving face. A magazine found its way into his searching hand, and he lifted it, not caring that it was the latest issue of Seventeen.

"...Ten-thirty. But if she's late..."

"Yes, we know. Gut her, tie her to the roof with her own intestines. God, Vergil, loosen up." And with that she was gone, leaving him staring in slight confusion at an advertisement for blackhead remover.

No one listened a whit, did they?


	6. Move Like You Gonna Die

**Prompt From An RP:** Dante wants to babysit.

* * *

He'd said yes. In retrospect, he'd done so against his better judgement, because God only knew his brother couldn't take care of himself, much less a child. But fatherhood, Vergil had discovered, was rather...Stifling from time to time, and it was hard to go about and do the things he'd done before the twin baby bouncing balls of joy had entered his life (Lady had lied and said she was on the pill...He should have known better). No more was he able to conduct his business endeavors the way he once had, with a little 'on hand' management.

So it wasn't in the best frame of mind, being harried by twin boys that were near identical copies of their father and uncle, that he'd agreed when Dante had so enthusiastically offered to babysit. And he'd paid Dante's ramblings about what he and the twins would do while Vergil was out no mind, instead going through his mental rolodex as to who needed contacting, who needed punishing, and who just flat out had to die.

So it was with surprise, disappointment, and so much shame that Vergil arrived home, to find no less than five police cars, an ambulance, a firetruck, and a SWAT team blocking his driveway, with clouds of smoke billowing from the kitchen windows of his residence.

Vergil shifted into park in the middle of the street, not giving a damn who was looking or roping off the driveway, shoving the officer doing so right off his feet as he stalked toward the house. He knew who's fault this was. He did indeed. And he knew what he was going to do when he got his hands on his darling little brother, too. Dead? Dead. The fool was so dead he didn't begin to realize how dead.

The SWAT member that tried to stop him and ask for identification ended up tossed in the bushes, and the rest withdrew, as Vergil finally found his prey, using Vergil's own sons as a meat shield between himself and his obviously pissed off brother.

Dante grinned sheepishly as Vergil stormed forward, waving a hand slightly. "Uh...Hey, Verg. We were just...Making cookies."

"Daddy, Daddy, Uncle Dante made the stove explode." Alexander, the elder and more excitable of the twins bounced on his feet, his eyes as big as dinner plates.

"It was so cool," Thadius (Thad to everyone but Vergil) chimed in, before giggling and clamping his hands over his mouth.

"Yeah...Uh...Seems like there was maybe...A..." Dante trailed off, finally looking Vergil in the eyes, noting they had definitely gone red and black. Oops. With a pat to the twins' heads, he sprung to his feet, giving Vergil a wave. "Wellit'."

And he was off like a shot.

Vergil growled and started after him, intending on beating the fool to death with his own legs, before a secondary explosion in the kitchen nearly shook the ground from underneath his feet, spraying broken glass into the backyard.


End file.
